


Grave Dirt

by nebula_vs_supernova



Series: Fandom Oneshots and Drabbles and Everything in Between [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Anger, Complete, Dirt - Freeform, Everyone Copes Different Ways, Fic Graveyard, Grief/Mourning, Jason Is A Mess, Jason Just Prefers Whatever This Is, Jason-Centric, Past Character Death, Reminiscing, Resurrected Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebula_vs_supernova/pseuds/nebula_vs_supernova
Summary: The dirt of graveyards has a distinctive smell. Jason should know, but he's not here for the dirt.He's here because someone precious is dead.





	Grave Dirt

**Author's Note:**

> First somewhat successful attempt at writing Jason Todd. I'll probably look back at this and cringe, but whatever. There aren't enough Jason Todd fics in my opinion, and there never will be.  
> Critiques are appreciated. Thanks in advanced.

The earth was wet but soft, and it smelled like mold. If he really tried though, the dirt had an underlying scent of decay and old wood. The blades of grass were cold and damp against the pads of his fingers as he tore up the vegetation.

It had rained all day, and now it was just cold. Dark too - because, of course, he was too stubborn to just walk around like a normal person. There was nothing inherently suspicious about visiting a graveyard because, hell, everybody knew somebody who was six feet under. Still though, to him, there was something that unsettled him.

Something about graveyards was somehow inherently comfortable for him. Maybe it was the fact that he'd dug himself out of one if these plots at one point, but Jason felt relaxed sitting in front of one of the headstones. He'd done it before, so it wasn't particularly strange for him to visit certain graves. Knowing a lot of dead people - or at least caring about a lot of them - tended to make his trimonthly trips into the graveyard fairly busy.

This particular grave was fresh though, so Jason had made a special trip. He hadn't made it to the funeral. He'd been too ashamed to show his face to his brothers and sisters - too ashamed of what he had said the last time he'd seen any of them. So he had skipped the funeral, the wake. He had waited until everyone else was delving into their own unique ways of coping with the death to visit the grave.

Jason kept tearing up the grass at the foot of the grave, staring at the engraved name like it was going to change. He was sitting like a child, and for once, he had respected Bruce's anti-gun policy. Bruce was -  _after all_ \- the  _dead_ one.

It might have been  _funny_ if someone Jason cared desperately about wasn't  _dead._ Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight, Caped Crusader, the world's greatest detective,  _Batman_ was dead. Well and truly  _dead._

Jason knew that Tim would argue that he'd come back like he had last time, that Dick would throw himself into Bruce's work, that the little brat would pretend like it didn't effect him, and that everyone would try to do whatever it took to rationalize Bruce's death. To him though, to Jason, he almost understood. There was cruel irony in this death, but there was finality too.

The Batman was dead.  _Bruce_ _Wayne_ was dead.

Jason didn't like it, and he hated that the last time he'd spoken to Bruce, they'd fought. Granted, he'd always clashed with Bruce and his ideals - especially after his own death. Perhaps that was just what Jason was doomed to do. The fight was stupid now that he thought about it - they all were. If Jason had just tried to better understand.

He hadn't known Bruce was sick, but Jason doubted anyone knew. It was something common and annoying and  _too dumb to kill Bruce._ Jason had guessed that it was a heart attack, and the autopsy confirmed it. It wasn't the only one either. Bruce's high-stress hobby of bludgeoning unsuspecting criminals to near-death had led to a heart condition.

A predictable and ordinary condition, and far too dull for the Batman.

Jason had half a mind to scream at the headstone, blame Bruce for not taking care of himself, but silence seemed more appropriate. He couldn't think of anything to say anyway. Talking didn't matter anymore.

The dirt piled atop the casket was loose and new. With the next rain, it would be compacted again. Then grass would grow over it. Then, years later, everyone would forget the significance of Bruce Wayne and his best kept secret. He'd fade into rumors and mythos.

"I'm sorry." Jason finally managed the choked apology that had been on the tip of his tongue for hours. "I'm sorry we fought. I'm sorry I didn't agree with your form of justice." A deep breath built and released in his chest. "Maybe if I did, things would have been different. Would you have told me about your heart? Would we have been closer?"

Jason doubted it. Bruce was the closest thing to a father Jason knew of,  but in any world where he and Bruce agreed, they probably would have been apart. Because Jason grew up fighting the same battles with Bruce and because he died for it, Jason had learned to disagree with Bruce.

"You should have taken care of yourself, old man," Jason said, plucking a few more blades if grass and shoving them into the wind. "You should  _be there!_ For Damien and Dick and Tim if not for me! For Babs and Cass, Steph and Luke, and everyone else in your damn family!" Jason was shouting now like he couldn't control it. "You could have  _prevented this!_ _Why_  didn't you?"

His voice echoed against stone and grave dirt, and Jason shut up, pulling his sleeve over his hand to wipe tears off his face. Jason was  _angry_ at Bruce. If he was honest, he felt like Bruce had abandoned him all over again, but that wasn't true. They'd been separated by death yet again.

Maybe that was Jason's fate. If Bruce's was to forever seek vengeance for a crime that could never be atoned for, maybe Jason's was to be separated from everyone he loved by death and his own stubbornness.

In a fit of explosive anger, Jason grabbed a handful of dirt, flinging it at the headstone vehemently. "You left  _us!_ You left  _me!_ _ **Again.**_ " Jason spat the word. "I hope you  _suffer_ digging your way out of that hole like I did. Maybe then you'll learn not to  _die like a_ _dumbass_ _._ "

Jason hopped to his feet and made to kick at the freshly disturbed ground, but he stopped short with a scowl. While he may have wanted to  _strangle_ Bruce, to disturb his final resting place would be a grave mistake, and Jason would never do that.

So instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets with a huff and a "see you on the other side, old man". Jason smiled fondly down at the grave for a second, scuffing the toe of his boot against the grass and blinking away a fresh set of tears.

"I'm going to miss you, Bruce." Jason's smile grew more strained as his voice cracked. "I'm going to miss bugging you and you getting on my case about how I operate." Jason laughed weakly. "Guess you'll just have to save those lectures 'til I join you."

With one final smile and a small goodbye, Jason left.

**Author's Note:**

> Over _500?_
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> (To me that's a lot, so) Thanks so much! I hope you enjoyed it.
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> **as of 21 Jul. 2018**


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